Don't Fight Your Punishment

By Becca, a 43 Year Old Female Viewer from South Georgia

I grew up as the middle child in a home with three sisters, fairly close in
age. We argued and bickered frequently over anything and everything. One
summer morning while watching cartoons, my older sister and I were arguing
loudly. Without warning, Mama came into the room with a switch and began to use
it on the two of us. In trying to escape the sting of the lashes to my legs, I
somehow struck her and knocked her glasses off her face. She immediately stopped
the whipping and sent me to my room upstairs. From my room, I could hear my
sister crying as Mama completed her punishment. Then the house was quiet with
the exception of the normal household activities. I composed myself and passed
the next couple of hours playing alone in my room.

Then I heard a car pull into the driveway, signaling that Daddy was home for
lunch. After a short time, I heard Daddy calling me to come downstairs. I went
down to join him and my mother at the dining room table where a fresh new switch
was waiting instead of lunch. I was lectured about arguing with my sisters and
told I would not be allowed to get away with fighting punishment when Mama
thought it was necessary. Daddy was insistent that he was going to be sure that
the punishment Mama had started would be properly completed.

The doorway between the dining room and den was a large open archway. My two
sisters were in the den watching TV at the time, so they could hear and see
everything happening. I was instructed by Daddy to stand in the door way with my
hands holding onto the doorframe at the side of the large opening. I obeyed as
Mama picked up the switch and striped the back of my bare legs. I squirmed and
screamed loudly as I literally slid down the doorframe trying to avoid that
whippy switch. Daddy firmly ordered me to stand up and remain still. Mama put
the switch down long enough to pull my shorts down to my ankles. I pleaded for
her not to do that. Daddy told me to hush. Mama completed the whipping on my
panty covered rear-end and backs of my thighs. I was sent back upstairs to my
room to compose myself before joining my family for lunch.